


What we do to ourselves

by undertalefruitsalad



Series: The Swapfell Brothers [9]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell, Coping, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Past Sexual Abuse, Sad, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 17:31:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11018169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undertalefruitsalad/pseuds/undertalefruitsalad
Summary: Sans is alone at home and alone with his thoughts. Those thoughts that always return to the time where Papyrus used him against his will. To distract him from those memories, Sans decides to take it to the bedroom but it turns out to be not as pleasurable as he thinks.





	What we do to ourselves

It was one of the calmer days. The kid had just left Snowdin without killing too many monsters and Papyrus was out there, “keeping an eye on them”. Which was supposed to be funny because he had no eyes. 

But Sans could not laugh at this, even hearing it for the umpteenth time. 

Recently Sans had begun to think about his brother, his changes in the in the last few resets, how helpful he has become. He saw how it strained him. But Sans didn’t know what to do about it either. He knew Papyrus couldn’t go back to where they came from. It would not end well. 

Sans also thought about That timeline more often than he used to. He wanted to forgive. Or at least forget. He didn’t want this to stand between them, but it did. 

So he thought about it. 

How he could deal with it better, how he might get over it. 

But each time he thought he was close to make amends, he felt his soul churn by the utter betrayal Papyrus had wounded him with. 

He could not let it go.

On said calm day, where Sans had no duties to fulfil and Papyrus was out, Sans did what he always did to keep his mind away from strolling: doing chores. Cleaning the house, doing the dishes his brother forgot, taking care of their laundry, making dinner and putting it in the fridge, even though there already were high amounts of his cooking. Since he kept the house very tidy, those chores were done faster than he would like and then he was confronted with not knowing what to do with himself.

Well, that was not entirely true. He knew what he wanted to do, but he had pushed that thought away from him.

Despite most opinions on him, Sans was not an overly sex interested monster. 

He rarely had the urge to do the do, much do Papyrus dismay. 

And when he had, his brother was always there to help him out. Not today though and he was not willing to go find him just for a thing as minor as this. It wasn’t even a heat so he could take care of this matter himself. 

With a resigning sigh he made himself go up into his room. Usually when he wanted to get messy by himself he went into Papyrus room. There everything smelled like his brother and it gave a nice touch to set the mood right. Besides, there it was always dirty, so it didn’t matter if he made it any worse.

But today was different. 

He walked over to the meticulously made bed, pulled off his shorts before letting himself drop onto the soft mattress. No need to get fully naked, he just wanted to calm his urges and get on with his day. 

The drawer next to his bed contained some of his favourite toys, but for now he would just lay back and let his hands roam his bones where he knew he liked it.

Lying back, concentrating on the feeling of phalanges scratching along his pubis while his thoughts went to wander to his brother, he imagined it were his touches.

The movements had been pleasant, firm but tender, but suddenly the grasp had become much harder, borderline painful and he flinched, clasping his spread legs together and retreating his hands. 

His eyes were wide in shock, breath haggard while he stared at his own misbehaving hand.

Rough treatment wasn’t sometime he usually minded. Usually that is, but there were occasions where he just preferred some soft, nice lovemaking. 

Swallowing his own salvia he tried to lean back, let is hand wander down again. He returned to the images he had pictured before. 

He thought how he rode Papyrus tenderly, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, peppering him with kisses while feeling his erection push into him, despite the confines he has put Papyrus in. 

During this train of thought his parts manifested, so he was no longer feeling along his bones but his squishy vagina instead. 

Giving out a raspy sigh Sans let his thoughts follow that memory while his fingers toyed with the lips hiding his entrance.

Suddenly Papyrus got lose and his hands were all over his body. He tried to push him away and hold him down. But Sans could not move! He wanted to tell Papy to stop, but he could not speak. All he could do was stare at his brothers hunger filled expression, while he felt his body being manhandled. 

He touched him everywhere. Even where he didn’t like it: underneath his ribcage, far too close to his soul, around his neck, always sensitive and rarely in a good way, and still Papyrus member pressed inside him but not at the leisure pace as before. Now it was harsher, more painful.

Sans wanted it to stop. 

But it didn’t.

Not even his own ministrations were stopping, like his hand truly wasn’t his anymore. He was still touching himself with vigour and he could feel himself getting wetter the further he touched and the more his thoughts followed the path they had taken. 

He could feel tears at the corner of his eyes. 

Even as he opened them, hoping to ground himself he was still not seeing. 

He was still fondling himself in a, by now, truly painful manner. 

A sob escaped him.

He was masturbating.

To the thoughts of his brother raping him.

It was sickening.

He wanted to bring his thoughts back to their tender lovemaking. But … the point was … Papyrus had been tender during this time. He had proclaimed how much he loved him. While Sans didn’t want anything more than for him to stop.

And now he was able to stop it and still didn’t. 

What kind of sick freak was he?

He loved his brother. 

That should have shown how deeply messed-up he was. 

What kind of sick bastard was fucking his own, younger brother?

What kind of failure would leave his brother to become what he had turned into? 

Who would let the one he proclaimed to love the most suffer in so, so many different ways?

Sans had it coming a long time ago.

He deserved this treatment. 

And Papyrus did make it feel good. 

Besides of the touching where he was not supposed to touch. 

Besides of him not being able to make him stop.

Besides of him unable to tell him anything at all.

The last time he had felt so powerless was in the labs. 

He felt disgusting. 

He felt dirty.

So pathetic.

But he was still going. Envisioning all the ways Papyrus had fucked him during that one time and with a heartbreaking sob he came. 

It was no relieve at all. 

He felt horrible. 

He pulled his pillow over his head. Pelvis covered in his fluids, he pulled himself in a foetal position.

He didn’t want to cry. Crying didn’t help with anything. Crying was a sign of weakness. 

But he did anyways. He could not stop it. His only hope was that the pillow would silence his sobs enough so no one would be able to hear it.

His thoughts repeated in his head over and over, all the while his tears ran down his face and wetted the sheets bellows him. His breath hitched and body shook. 

He wanted to ground himself, but he failed and in his frustration he threw the pillow away. Now openly crying he tried to sit up and just then he realised Papyrus sitting in front of his bed.

Thousands thoughts rushed into him, making him stiff and silent for several seconds before he followed Papyrus very slow and deliberate movements.

He reached underneath his clothes and pulled out his soul before laying it before Sans like some kind of sacrifice.

And Sans took it.

He held it in his hands in the same manner, he used to do with one of his toys, to keep him calm when he was smaller and curled around it. Pressing it tightly to his chest. 

The steady hum of the orange shining soul finally calmed him down enough to look up at his brother again, who just sat there, silently eying him with worry and guilt. He could feel Sans torn feelings and the thoughts that had brought them up. 

With a jump Sans was in Papyrus arms.

“HOLD ME, DON’T TOUCH ME!”

He pressed himself close to Papyrus, closer, always closer. He wanted to be close so badly. He wanted the other to hold him, so he could be even closer but he didn’t want the touch. He didn’t want to be trapped again. 

“I hate you! I love you!”

His voice was shaking and full of anger.

“Don’t leave me … please…stay away from me.”

He didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t know what he was even saying.

"Save me ... please Papy...make it stop!"

Sans was a frantically mumbling mess. 

Papyrus understood every word. 

He tried to bring his soul to do what his body could not.

Make Sans feel safe and protected. 

Neither of them knew how long it took until finally Sans gave the soul back and draped a shuddering arm around Papyrus neck.

Both wanted to say something, anything, but neither knew what. There was nothing to say. 

Nothing that could help anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I always wanted to show how not okay Sans is after this one timeline in "Tell me you are happy", but somehow it never fitted anywhere.


End file.
